Lostness (1)

Notes of a teenage dropout

 

Part 1: 1972

 

We move like pieces on a darkened chessboard.

 

Chess is a good game.
It will wreck your life and drive you mad.

 


 

Never is always

 

Atoms hum in dispute
driving shapes through flavoured air.

Whispered things
along the snowline
of a body.

Like a ghostly patch
on wallpaper
where a mirror had been.

 

And his mind was there
settled under the trees.

Perhaps we will arrive in Greece
several thousand years too late.

 

 

 

 

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